


Take Two

by FandomLovingFreak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fred Weasley is sort of a jerk but just to reader, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, NSFW mentions in first chapter, Quidditch Rivalry, Ratings may change, Slytherin Reader, Slytherin!Reader - Freeform, he's got a crush, until later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:42:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28738185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLovingFreak/pseuds/FandomLovingFreak
Summary: Quidditch rivalries can cause tension between the houses but nothing is like the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin.Fred Weasley and (y/n) take Quidditch rivalries just a bit too seriously.Enemies to Lovers
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

"That was a bad call, and you know it!" Fred Weasley lands nearby me. He looks furious, his freckles nearly disappearing under the redness of his face.

"So what if it was? We still won! Get over it, Weasley." I'm prepared for him to drop it and sulk off into the locker rooms, not come closer to my face to continue the argument.

"Can hardly call it a win when you didn't deserve it."

I glare at him. Who the fuck did he think he was? Deserve it? We bloody well deserved it. "Deserve? Don't you talk to me about deserving anything,  _ Weasley. _ Gryffindor's get special treatment constantly because of Potter. We won this game. Get over it." I amplify my final words with a poke to his chest.

"Oh please," he's gotten even closer to my face. His normally amused features are marred with rage, "Don't start that sob story with me (y/l/n). You Slytherin's are all the same."

I've never liked Fred Weasley, but right now, I think I completely loathe him. "Yeah? We're all the same? What the fuck does that mean? Are you implying something?"

He snorts, "You know  _ exactly _ what I'm implying, (y/l/n). Thought you were smart and wouldn't need me to spell it out for ya."

"You're an ass. What do you gain from this? Proving that your team is a bunch of sore losers?" I take a step towards him, completely inflamed with anger now. If I had my bloody wand, I'd hex his sorry ass into next week. I've never been a fan of Gryffindor's infamous pranksters, finding them to be completely immature.

"Maybe if you and yours didn't cheat--"

"Cheat?" my voice almost squeaks from the amount of outrage I feel at this accusation, "You're so incredibly thick-skulled, Fred Weasley! What do you want? To fight me? Duel me? You'd find yourself on your sorry ass before you could best me!"

"Lucky for you, (y/l/n), I don't hit girls." He says with one of those obnoxious Fred Weasley smirks.

"Unfortunately for you,  _ Frederick _ , I do." Our teammates all collectively 'oo' impressed with the quip. I can't help but grin as his face burns wildly as he steps back. Fred turns on his heel, walking away towards the locker rooms without another word with George and the other Gryffindors trailing behind him.  _ Yes! I beat him at his own game for once. _

My teammates all clapped me on the shoulder, laughing at Fred and congratulating me over shutting him down. 

"You really got him that time (y/n)," Adrian laughs with the rest of the team.

"I did, didn't I?" I grin at my teammates, "Great game, guys."

"It was, but that little spat was the highlight of my game." Graham grins, placing his arm around my shoulder. I shrug him off, not in the mood to combat his bothersome "flirty" behavior.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm glad I'm here for all of your entertainment." I grin at the rest of the team, "I'll be in the locker room. We're throwing some sort of celebration in the common room, right?" They all nod, talking animatedly about the liquor one of them has stashed away for this sort of moment. I turn, ready to take a scorching hot and  _ relaxing _ shower. The thought of the deliciously warm water running over my body has me rushing towards the locker room. I deserved this.

***

Freshly washed and completely relaxed, I find my way back to the Slytherin Common room, where the party has already begun. Some of my housemates are already moderately drunk. I suspect the culprit of this is a flask (or three) being passed around the Slytherins in the stands during the game. 

Some fourth year hands me a glass of an unidentifiable liquid with a quick, "congratulations (y/n). Saw you really give it to Weasley after the game." I laugh, throwing back the contents of the glass. Whatever was in the glass burns deliciously as it rushes down my throat. It's got a slight cherry taste that sticks around a few moments before dispersing on my tongue.

"You were amazing!" My best friend Carina wraps me in her arms, her dark brown hair tickling at my nose

"Ya think?"

"Duh! I knew you'd beat rotten Gryffindor easily." The smell of liquor is strong with her standing so close.

I laugh, "It was hardly an  _ easy _ win. They are a good team."

"But Slytherin--" she giggles, "is better."

I roll my eyes, "Obviously."

"And that obnoxious Weasley boy! He had the nerve to fight you?" 

"We only argued. Is there a rumor I fought Fred already?"

She pouts, "I heard you fought him! Now I'm disappointed."

I can't help but shake my head at my intoxicated friend's shenanigans, "You're disappointed I wasn't expelled for fighting on school grounds over a quidditch match?"

"You would've got detention, not expelled." she waves her hand around like this is the most obvious thing.

"I think you've had a bit too much, dear." I lead her towards the large couch in the center of the room.

"I feel fine! Tell me about the argument." She pats the spot next to her on the couch. I tell her everything, about how Fred got so damn close to me and all the things he said about Slytherin and the game.

"He so fancies you," her head lolls on the back of the couch.

I recoil from my friend, "what? _ Hardly. _ I'd say he hates me more than anything. And besides, I can't stand him. I hardly want him harboring--feelings for me."

She giggles, "It doesn't matter what you want. He's always picking fights with you. Why would he if it weren't for some silly crush? Fred Weasley never loses his cool  _ unless you're involved. _ "

I pull a disgusted face, "You're drunk, and that's not true. I'm sure he's a complete spaz with others. We're just not there to witness those instances."

Carina rolls her eyes, "sure. If you say so, (y/n)."

I try to change the subject because, honestly, I'm bothered by this one, "I'm gonna get something to drink. You want something?"

Carina pulls out a flask from Merlin knows where. "I'm good!" She presses the little black flask against her lips, taking another pull.

"Brilliant," I leave my friend to her flask in search of something strong. I'm in desperate need of something that'll make me forget and push away the embarrassment from that conversation. Maybe I can find Adrian and see if he's free for a moment. I could use a distraction from the excitement with Fred. 

I'll admit it isn't wise to go to a teammate to fool around. Actually, it felt too weird most of the time. But, alcohol has that fantastic effect of making poor decisions seem much better at the moment. I can blame the booze once again.

I spot Adrian leaning against the wall, a pool of third-year girls surrounding him. His excessive peacocking is downright embarrassing at this point. Adrian not so subtly puffs his chest out as he flirts with the younger girls, who eagerly soak in the attention from the older boy. He hands me a bottle of something, and I take a pull before leaning towards him. In a low voice, I ask, "are you free later?"

Adrian's eyebrows shoot up before he's smirking. His arm wraps around my waist, clutching at the meat of my hip, "Always for you."

***

Adrian's got his lips on my neck, his hands roam my body. 

"Don't leave any marks," my fingers pull at the roots of his black hair.

"I know," he mutters against my skin before he pulls my sweater over my head. He kisses me with just a bit too much tongue. I don't hate hooking up with Adrian, but he's a bit of a clumsy lover at times. 

I pull him into the broom closet, wanting the relief of release as soon as possible.

"Eager?" He smirks.

I want to roll my eyes, "Yup." I pull at his belt, unbuckling it quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr @WeasleyTwinsAndDraco  
> Wattpad @FandomLovingFreak
> 
> Thanks for the kudos!

I pass Fred Weasley in the halls multiple times a day, and every time I can't help but raise my chin slightly with pride. In turn, he scowls at me nearly every time we pass each other, making himself busy talking to whoever he's walking with or pushing his group of friends or twin into another corridor to avoid contact with me. Maybe it is a bit roguish of me to say, but I'd like to think I was to do with his discomfort. 

"Scared off Weasley, have you?" my Ravenclaw friend, Jack, jokes with me.

"Seems like it. Can't handle losing a fight to a girl."

"I think it's more like he can't handle losing a Quidditch game to Slytherin and then getting absolutely  _ owned _ by their star Chaser."

"You flatter me. It's not  _ that much  _ of a victory when you're arguing with someone so dimwitted, though."

Jack snickers, "I'll see you later (y/n). That is if you're still available to study after dinner?"

"Yes! I desperately need help with my potions homework."

"Only if you'll help with Charms."

"Obviously! See you, Jack." I wave to my friend, turning a corner towards the Transfiguration classroom when I run into someone. I nearly fall to the floor, but whoever I've run into grabs me up and pulls me towards their chest before I can hit the ground. I'm about to thank them for saving me from a nasty fall when  _ he _ speaks.

"Watch where you're going, (y/l/n)." I wince, looking up at Fred.

"I was turning the corner. What are you doing walking on the wrong side of the hallway?"

He rolls his eyes, "unbelievable. Should've let you fall."

Through my teeth, I growl back, "maybe you should've."

"Whatever." He lets go of me before he maneuvers himself around my person. Instantly, I feel terrible as I watch him walk away.

"Fred!" I shout down the hall getting a bit of attention from the other students walking. He stops and turns back towards me. He's wearing a scowl on his face as he barks out an annoyed 'what?'

"Thank you..." My voice is weak sounding, and I can't bear to say anything more. Fred's face softens a tiny bit, and it looks like he's going to say something... But it's all too embarrassing, so I turn and make a beeline towards Transfigurations. Hopefully, no one's noticed any of that. At least, I hope if they have, they have the decency to not remind me later on.

***

Unfortunately for my pride, I have Defence Against the Dark Arts with Fred and a handful of the Fifth year Gryffindors later that day. I glance his way for a moment when I walk in, feeling too embarrassed to do much more. Hating that he saved me from toppling over in the corridor, I try to busy myself talking to my deskmate, a Hufflepuff girl named Ava, who's become my friend since sitting by me at the very beginning of the school year.

"Are you okay, (y/n)?" Ava asks, decidedly concerned as to why I'm acting so frazzled today. I'm too uncomfortable, feeling Fred's gaze on me every so often during class. Why does he have to stare? 

"I'm fine. Did you understand question seven of the homework?"

"You seem odd today."

"I'm fine, really. I got counter jinx for question three, but I wasn't sure if that was correct."

Ava rolls her eyes, "quit changing the subject. Why are you being so strange today?"

I sigh, knowing Ava too well. She won't give up on asking me why I'm not acting like myself, "Were you at the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin this past weekend?"

"No, but I heard you got into it with Fred Weasley over the game-winning call."

"Yeah, well,  _ that happened _ . We got into this whole argument, and of course, I won--" Ava giggles, "anyways, I ran into him. Literally  _ ran into him _ in a corridor earlier, and he's such a-- _ prick _ . I can't stand the Gryffindor brave type. Honestly, Ava, I'm convinced calling them brave is just the kindest way they could think of to call them thick. Of course, it's gone to their head..." Ava cackles over this, causing me to grin widely. 

"You ran into him? What do you mean exactly?" She glances over her shoulder at the boy in question.

"Don't draw his attention over here!" I squeak out, glancing at him to see if he's noticed. He looks up from his own work when I glance over my shoulder, causing me to whip my head back around to face the front of the classroom. I exhale shakily, suddenly feeling nervous...? No, not nervous. That isn't exactly what I'm feeling. 

"Anyways..." I whisper to Ava, "I ran into him when I was turning around a corner when I was walking to class, and I almost ate it. But--he caught me." Scowling, I go back to looking at my assignment.

"He saved you from falling, and now you're--what? Upset about it?" She begins to giggle again, finding my dilemma funny of all things.

"No, I'm not upset about that! Well, maybe I am a little... I'm more upset that I quarreled with him over it and then thanked him after he'd been a complete ass. And then-- I got all flustered over it and practically ran the other way to avoid any further embarrassment." She gives me a little grin like she's figured out something I haven't. I absolutely hate to feel like I've been left out of the joke. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing," she shrugs, going back to her answers, "He's been looking over here quite a bit."

Pursing my lips, I look back at my own assignment, "I know. He's making it so much worse!" I scribble down the answer to question seven, my knuckles almost white from the way I'm gripping my quill.

"It's curious," Ava comments as she's reading from our textbook.

"What is?" 

"It's just strange that he's looking over here, I guess? Did he say anything back when you thanked him?" 

I chuckle, "I ran away before he got the chance."

"Maybe he wants to say something?"

I groan, "I hope not. I've had enough of him for the rest of the school year in one single week."

***

Class is dismissed. I say goodbye to Ava as I gather up my possessions. I'm about to walk through the doorway when I feel a tug on my robe's sleeve. I turn, expecting one of my friends to be getting my attention but find Fred Weasley's hand on my robe.

"What do you want?" I spit out before pulling my sleeve from him.

He frowns, "Can I talk to you?"

Sighing, I ask, "why?"

"Just--" he looks increasingly flustered... Odd. "Come." Again, he tugs at my sleeve, pulling me away from the crowds of students that flood the halls.

"What do you want?" I ask again when we're away from others.

"Why did you thank me and then run off?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Frederick. Should I have _ not _ thanked you?"

"You had the opportunity before you mouthed off to me."

My frown deepens, "Fuck you." I take a step away from him, but he's got a hold on my arm this time.

"Why--Why do you hate me so much?"

I scoff, " _ I don't have the time to hate you. _ Besides, you don't make it hard to see you're the one who hates me."

A dusty flush covers his cheeks, reaching the tips of his ears, "I do not! I doubt I've given you any impression that I hate you."

"You argue with me every instance you're given!" I raise my voice. How ridiculous to assume I wouldn't have caught on to how much he dislikes me. It's insulting really to think I didn't catch on! 

"I do not!"

"What is this, then?" I lean my weight onto one side, tapping my foot impatiently.

He scowls at me, "You're the one raising their voice! I didn't intend to argue with you." His grip on my arm seems to tighten momentarily. I don't want to be in the corner of the corridor any longer with him.

"Just let go of me!" I yell back. Right then, Professor McGonagall walks by. She stops and frowns at the two of us.

"What is going on here?" She comes up to us. Fred instantly drops my arm, and I let it drop dumbly to my side.

"Nothing professor," I try to look as innocent as possible.

"Nothing? I could hear the two of you arguing from down the hall."

"Professor--"

"Not a word Mister Weasley. Detention, both of you. After dinner at my office. We do  _ not yell  _ in the hallways. And Mister Weasley," she directs her authoritative glare towards him, "we  _ do not grab other students _ . Do I make myself clear?" 

I try not to make a face, knowing Graham would chew me out tomorrow for getting detention and missing our night practice. There's no reason to get two detentions, and McGonagall looks to be in a rather unforgiving mood.

"Yes, Professor," Fred and I say in the same dull tone. McGonagall nods once before leaving.

"Good job! I had practice after dinner," I hike my school bag further up my shoulder.

"Oh, please. You can't blame me entirely for this."

"I can, and I will!" I walk off without another word.

"See you in detention (y/n)," I hear him call after me. I flip him the bird as I continue down the hallway.

***

"You got detention? You? (y/n) (y/l/n)?" Carina bursts into laughter, "and with Fred Weasley of all people! This is perfect."

I roll my eyes, "shut up. I'll be lucky to keep my spot on the team now, thanks to him. I bet this was Gryffindor's plan!"

"Or Fred's personal plan to get to hang around you," Carina teases.

"As if." I flick her on the shoulder.

She snickers, "Your First date under the dim candlelit glow of old McGonagall's office.. writing lines or whatever. It's so romantic, well, maybe for a Weasley."

I shake my head. This sudden hate instilled within my own house for the Weasley's was born when Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin. It was a bit ridiculous, in my opinion, and the comments made to the red-headed family were uncalled for and downright cruel at times, "There's  _ nothing wrong _ with the Weasleys. Just Fred."

"Right," she rolls her eyes.

***

Changing into more comfortable clothing, I make my way to McGonagall's office. Unsurprisingly I get there before Fred.

Clearing my throat to get her attention, I ask, "What do you want me to do, Professor?"

"You and Mister Weasley will be hand cleaning the Trophy Room."

I nod, not surprised by the punishment, "Do you want me to wait for Fred, or can I go up and get started now?"

"You may wait for Mister Weasley in that chair. You shouldn't get a longer punishment just because you've arrived before you were summoned."

"Okay..." I sit down in one of the chairs, trying and failing to be patient. If he arrived on time, we'd already been starting our detention, but in Fred Weasley's fashion, he's made the task more complicated than necessary.

Finally, after ten minutes of waiting, Fred walks through McGonagall's door dressed in a casual sweater and trousers.

"Sorry. I had to sort something--"

"I don't want your excuses, Mister Weasley. You'll be hand cleaning the Trophy Room with Miss (y/l/n). You'll find all the necessary cleaning supplies waiting for you." Fred looks like he's going to complain but thinks better of it, stiffly nodding instead. Oh, so Fred Weasley can hold his tongue, eh?

I stand, "Do you want us to come back once we're done?"

"If it's a reasonable hour, then yes. If it's very late, you may be dismissed. Remember, I will be checking the Trophy Room tomorrow morning and will know if you've ditched." She gives Fred a look. I suppose as the head of the Gryffindor House, she knows a bit about Fred and his habits when it comes to detentions.

"Okay," I walk away, knowing Fred will follow behind me.

***

We sit on opposite sides of the room as we clean through the trophies. Fred's brow is furrowed in concentration, and his sleeves are rolled up above his elbow. It's only slightly distracting to watch him polish the trophies. I turn back to my own work, determined not to get distracted by the sight of him. Pathetic, really.

Somehow Fred has managed to get three done while I've only just finished my first. There's no way he's doing a satisfactory job at this pace!

"How are you so far along?" I stand, my hand on my hip, my polishing rag in the other hand.

"How are you so far behind?" He responds quickly, continuing to clean the golden plaque he's holding.

"Let me see one of your finished ones--" I walk towards him, picking up his first trophy. Much to my surprise, it's spotless.

I glance at him, shocked. Fred smirks, still continuing to work, "What's wrong (y/n)?"

"How?"

Fred chuckles, "I've done this exact work at least six times. You get faster with practice."

I roll my eyes, "How does one person get detention enough times to practically become a professional trophy cleaner?"

"Detentions my specialty, darling."

"Do not call me that," I walk back towards my side of the room. 

"No pet names in detention?"

"No pet names, period." I pick up the trophy I was working on before.

"C'mon. It's detention. You don't have to act like you hate me anymore. No one is around to witness."

"Like I said earlier, Frederick, I don't hate you."

"Well, I hate it when you call me Frederick."

I sigh, "That's exactly why I call you Frederick."

I hear him mutter, "I figured."

***

We continue cleaning in silence for what feels like days. Every so often, Fred will try to start up some small talk. Eventually, feeling sorry for him after I've shot down his attempts at conversation, I respond to one. That doesn't mean I choose to be perfectly civil with him as I respond...

"Obviously, I enjoy Quidditch. I play for my house's team, remember?" My back's to him, so I'm safe to crack a small grin over this.

"Oh, yeah. Obviously." I look over my shoulder at him. His back is also facing me.

He's got at least a third more of his side of the room done. "Honestly, I'm a little ticked you've got more of your side done..." I turn to face him, the trophy I've been working on for a hot minute in hand. 

"There's no 'my side.' We have to get the entire room done. If anything, I should be irritated that I'm going to do way more than half of the work." His voice has a tinge of annoyance to it.

"Calm down, fire-crotch," I roll my eyes as I continue to polish one of the golden trophies.

"I thought we said no pet names, (y/n)." He turns to face me, an annoying smirk twisting his lips in an admittedly attractive way.

"Shut up," I look down at my trophy, unwilling to meet his eye.

***

Fred does end up doing most of what I had designated as 'my side.' We end up sitting next to each other, chatting some as we finish up the last of the dingy trophies.

"Honestly, how do they get so dirty?" I laugh, glancing up at him.

"I have a theory," he grins at me.

"Let's hear it."

"You know my experience in this department...I've decided McGonagall must be the one who comes and dirties up the trophies so she can use the chore for detention."

I roll my eyes playfully, "c'mon. You think McGonagall, _ Professor McGonagall _ , who is notorious for being incredibly tidy, comes up to the third floor and what? Smudges each and every trophy just to make a little chore for naughty students?"

"What other explanation is there?" he chuckles.

Shrugging, I grin at the shiny surface of another cup for Merlin-knows-what. "I just don't think McGonagall has the patience for that nonsense. Shouldn't you know? You seem to be on her radar at all times."

"Still get away with a lot if that's the case," he bumps his shoulder against mine like we're buddies or something.

I stand to set down the newly polished trophy back in its glass case, "Oh! Looks like you've got the last one."

"Really? And it's only..." he glances towards the clock, "nearly eleven."

I can't help but yawn at the mention of the time, "well... I can wait for you to finish--?"

"No, go ahead. If you're tired--"

I don't understand why I feel sad that detention is over. "Oh--well, I'll see you in class soon?" Merlin, why does that sound so--

"Yeah. I'll er--see you." He looks down at his trophy. I falter over what to do next, ultimately deciding to leave the room.

I make my way back down to the dorms. It's quiet, the fire's crackle and the scratch of a seventh year's quill the only noises in the common room. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr WeasleyTwinsandDraco  
> Wattpad FandomLovingFreak
> 
> Thanks for the comments! My last semester of college starts tomorrow and I'll be sorta busy with my capstone (Aka large research paper yay -- )

It's weird to have worked beside Fred all night long and to have succeeded in being around each other civilly,  _ at least for that moment.  _ Maybe we could get past the tireless arguments at last. I was doubtful on the Quidditch Pitch much would change, as we are both quite competitive, but possibly all other parts of the school grounds... we could be something similar to friends.

I pass him in the hallway, giving him a small smile, to which he returns.

"Why the hell are you smiling at Weasley?" Carina whispers loudly.

I shush her, "I'm not doing anything!"

Carina raises her eyebrows, suggestively, "Well... he grinned at you."

I shove her away gently, "shut up."

"What happened last night? You got back so late."

"We cleaned the Trophy Room. That's it."

"That's it? You sure are acting friendly if that's all you did."

"We did nothing but polish dirty trophies. Let it go, Carina," I roll my eyes.

She hums in the back of her throat, not really believing it even though it was mostly the truth.

***

At lunch, Adrian talks loudly to some of the younger Slytherins. I find myself thinking how obnoxious he is, creating a commotion to impress the girls around him. As if he can tell I'm annoyed with his theatrics, he grabs for my hand, attempting to get me to talk about one of our dalliances.

"Stop it, Adrian," I shove him away.

"C'mon (y/n)," He tries to shove his face into the crook of my neck in a much too friendly way.

"Stop," I move away from him on the bench feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the way he's touching me. Not to mention how he's openly talking about our personal involvement. 

Adrian rolls his eyes, "don't be such a prude."

I frown, anger bubbling in my chest, "I'm not a prude. You're talking about something you shouldn't." I growl back at him, moving to get up from the table.

Adrian snorts, "Don't act like the rest of the school doesn't know how you are, (y/n)."

"Excuse me?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were fucking that blood traitor Weasley."

That's the last straw for me, "What did you just say to me, Pucey?"

"I said you're a bit loose--"

The crack of my textbook hitting flesh resounds around the Great Hall. I can't say I regret it. The sound was satisfying, and the look on his face was hysterical.

"Did you just hit me?" His voice comes out squeaky. I have to suppress a laugh.

"I don't know, did I?" 

"Miss (y/l/n)!" I hear McGonagall's voice behind me, "put that book down this instance." Exhaling the last of my rage, I set the book down on the table.

"Yes, Professor."

"What is going on here?" she asks, looking between Adrian and myself.

"It was Adrian's fault!" One of the younger girls speaks up. I whip my head in her direction, surprised she's taking my side when she practically worships at Adrian's feet. "he was saying something awful about (y/n), professor." I look towards McGonagall, hoping she can tell it was the truth. I know I'll still get into trouble for hitting Adrian, but hoping McGonagall can see what the girl said is true.

"What did he say to you, Miss (y/l/n)?"

Oh, I wasn't expecting to have to reiterate what Adrian said, "um... Professor..."

"Tell me what he said." Her eyes are stern. I look down at my feet, "he called me loose ma'am--" I feel the tears of embarrassment blossom in the corners of my eyes. I try to will them away; nothing Adrian Pucey said to me should make me cry.

"Mister Pucey, is this true?" McGonagall's voice has a hint of annoyance to it.

"Of course not!" Adrian lies between his teeth.

"He's lying, Professor!" Another girl says.

"Mister Pucey. Are you lying to me?"

Adrian glares at me for a beat, "I said it."

Professor McGonagall purses her lips, "detention both of you. Ten points from Slytherin each," I try to protest this, "and you Miss (y/l/n), you will serve detention with Professor Snape, while you Mister Pucey will be with me." She looks like she's going to walk away, but she pauses, "and Mister Pucey. If I hear you're saying such things to or about any of your female classmates again, your punishment will be much more severe. Do I make myself absolutely clear that that sort of language will not be tolerated inside these walls?"

Adrian again glares, "yes, ma'am."

McGonagall nods once before turning and walking away. I pause, glancing around the Great Hall. Everyone appears to be watching, even the Gryffindors. I spot Fred's eyes on me. 

Humiliated from the entire exchange, I calmly walk out of the room with my head held high. 

***

"Detention again?" Carina looks at me with disbelief. Up until this year, I hadn't found myself in detention once. I always put Quidditch first. If I had to miss practices, how would I keep my spot on the competitive team?

I had to wonder now if I was jeopardizing my spot with my reckless behavior currently, "I know it's bad. But Pucey deserved it. He called me...  _ loose. _ I should never have slept with him, Carina. He's such a--"

"He's an asshole. How dare he? He's lucky he got to come near you at all!"

"What if he convinces the rest of the team to kick me off the team?" My eyes widen, suddenly terrified by the idea. It's not above Adrian Pucey to go out of his way to ruin someone else's life. 

Carina snorts, "Pucey doesn't hold a candle to you as a chaser! They'd be idiotic to kick you off the team over him. We wouldn't have a chance without you (y/n), but we can definitely win without him."

"I should've just walked away--" I regret everything now. The look on his face was definitely not worth being kicked off the Quidditch team.

"You're going to be okay. I promise," Carina hugs me, "how did the rest of the Great Hall react?"

I put my head in my hands, groaning, "They all were staring. There's no way the entire hall didn't hear everything..."

"Who cares what they think?" Carina tries to comfort me again.

"The entire Gryffindor table was staring... it was so awful. I'm going to live in the shadows from now on--"

"Oh, calm down. You're going to be fine. If anyone found the situation funny... I'll hex them into next week."

***

Carina convinces me to go to class after another couple of minutes of self-pity. I try to keep myself busy with listening to the teachers and disappearing into the swarms of students before anyone can say anything to me. 

Deciding to take a shortcut through one of the courtyards, I notice a horde of students gathered in a corner. 

"Why are you defending that slut?" I hear Adrian's voice ring throughout the crowd.

"Don't call her that!" Fred's voice roars back.

_ Oh fuck. _

I run towards the commotion. George being quite a bit taller than Adrian, is visible from the back of the crowds. I try to push through my classmates to get to the front. There is no way in hell I'm letting Fred and Adrian try to murder each other.

"What the hell are you two doing?" I run into the middle of them, trying to push them apart. They keep trying to hit each other, even with my body trying  _ and failing _ to keep them apart. "Stop it!"

"Get out of here (y/n)." Adrian hisses at me as his fist collides with Fred's face over my head. Hot blood gushes from Fred's nose as his own fist comes for Adrian's face.

I collide with Fred's chest, trying desperately to get him as far away as possible from Adrian. "Stop it, Fred!" I spot George on the inside of the crowd of students. I call for him, "George, please help me!"

He nods once, coming into the circle and pulling Adrian away from his twin.

Adrian sneers at me as I try to keep Fred on the other side of the students, "That's right, keep your little boyfriend away. He's lucky all he got was a bloodied nose."

"Yeah? Why don't you come back--" Fred tries to push past me, but I hold on to him with all my strength. 

"Fred, stop! He's not worth it."

"Not what you said last week when I--"

"Shut it," George growls at Adrian.

Adrian shoves George off of him with a sneer, "whatever. She's not worth it, mate. I wouldn't waste your breath on that one." What the fuck is he going on about? Adrian and some other Slytherin boys push through the crowds.

Seeing as the action was over, the crowds slowly trickle back to doing whatever they were doing before the fight. George shakes his head in Fred's direction before walking away with Lee.

I look up at Fred. His breathing is still ragged, like an enraged bull. That's when I see how much blood was trickling down his face and onto the front of his shirt.

"You're bleeding," I reach towards the cut, but he pushes away my hand.

Fred frowns, "Why do you care?"

I frown back, "Shut up and let me tend to your stupid face." His eyes widen before he sits down on the half wall so I can look at the damage.

Again, I reach for his face. I think the blood is only coming from his nose, but I'm not entirely sure. It's dried a bit on the bridge of his nose, but I suppose that's from him wiping at the blood with the back of his hand. 

"Looks like it's going to bruise," I gently touch the red skin under his eye. I realize I'm relatively close to him as I inspect the bruising. Embarrassed, I pull away a tiny bit, "sorry."

"Sorry for what?" His brown eyes are impossible to look directly at. 

"I--nevermind." I go back to tending to the cut. Bunching up the sleeve of my sweater, I dab at under his nose. Fred winces. "Oh, did that hurt?"

"A little," he admits, "but don't ruin your sweater because of me."

"It's just a sweater," I shrug as I gently wipe away some more blood from his lip. "Do you mind if I use a spell? You're bleeding quite a lot."

"Go ahead."

I nod, taking out my wand, "Sarcio volnero." Thanks to the handy healing spell I had learned over the summer, I watch as the wound repairs itself.

"Where'd ya learn that?" Fred asks curiously.

"Picked it up this summer from my mum," I say casually, still checking to see if the spell ultimately worked.

"Did it--is it healed?" he asks, touching his nose.

"Looks like it. You're still covered in blood, though," I motion from his nose to the top of his chest. 

"No spell for that?" he smirks.

I roll my eyes, "Unfortunately, I've never had to clean up so much blood with magic before." 

"That bad?" He chuckles.

"You look like something out of a horror movie," I roll my bloody sleeve up.

"A what?" 

"Oh, sorry. I forget that some of you don't know muggle stuff. It's a genre of film... a-- uh moving picture of sorts."

"Why do you know muggle stuff?" He looks genuinely interested to know. Weird, I thought everyone knew I was somewhat of a sore thumb in Slytherin being a half-blood.

"I'm a half-blood. My mum is muggle-born."

"Oh," he doesn't look disgusted. Honestly, he doesn't look like the information affects him in any way, which is nice. I know his family is pureblood, and I've learned that you can never tell how they'll respond to this sort of news. Draco Malfoy's disgust was proof enough of that. "Do you do a lot with muggles?"

I snort, "You could say that. My mum's whole family is muggles, mind you. I spend a lot of time with muggles."

He looks at me, thoughtfully, "I never expected your mom was muggle-born."

I cock my head, "why would you? It's not like there's some physical identifier. Besides,  _ I'm a witch _ . What does it matter if I'm not  _ pure _ or whatever." I wave my hand around, dismissing the idea of blood purity.

"That's not what I meant," he rolls his eyes, "I just meant since you're in Slytherin."

"Trust me; it has caused me a lot of problems."

That has him instantly frowning, "Who's giving you issues?"

"I don't need you to fight my battles, Weasley." I toss my head. Definitely don't need some chivalrous Gryffindor to play knight in shining armor for me. The idea makes me want to hurl.

"Don't be stubborn. If they're giving you issues I--"

"You can what? Cause a commotion by physically assaulting my housemates? No, thank you. I don't need or want you to inflate your already unbearably large ego over me."

Fred purses his lips, "It's hardly about you."

"Yeah?" I give him a look, "Who is it about then, Frederick?"

"It's... the principle. Slytherin's can't just go around acting like blood purity is this-- all-important thing. It's sick."

I snort, "Really? Slytherin's are this-- force of evil, but your blatant prejudice against an entire house of people you barely know is relevant? You don't know me or anyone in my house because you and the rest of you Gryffindors refuse to give us a chance. We're not as bad as you think."

"Fat chance you'd give Gryffindor a chance! Name a Gryffindor you're friends with!"

"Well, your sister, for one. We had Charms last year. She's delightful. Clearly can't be related to you!"

His face goes red, "You're friends with Ginny?"

"Yes, I am Fred Weasley! I have the emotional capacity to see past someone's bloody house!"

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're an ass! A complete and total ass!" I'm practically yelling at him in the corridor of the courtyard, but I can't find it in me to care. He is an ass, and it's about time someone screamed it at him. Maybe it'll get through his thick skull for once. 

"I can be friends with anyone from any house if I bloody wanted to."

I'm fuming. Absolutely fuming, "Now that's comical! You can't even have a normal conversation with me without it ending in a screaming match! And to think I just fixed up your ugly mug, and this is how you repay me? You're a joke, Fred Weasley." I turn on my heel, entirely over him and his attitude. For a moment, we were civil, and _ he ruined it,  _ I think bitterly to myself. So much for detention and how I thought we had fixed something between us.

***

Fred POV

I feel my neck burn under her words. She wasn't wrong. I could never seem to get through a conversation with her without it turning into a mess. And she was right, she had fixed me up, and I hadn't even thanked her. 

I shake my head, not willing to feel sorry for myself over this.

"I need to get cleaned up," I mumble to myself, eyeing how much blood was on my shirt. It was disgusting.

I do regret fighting Adrian, but what he said about (y/n) was disgusting. I fucking hate Slytherins. They think they can say and do whatever the hell they want without repercussions. I couldn't help but threaten his life when he said those things about her. She wasn't some-- I should've just kept to myself. It wasn't worth it in the end.

I stalk off to my dorm. Can't walk around the halls like I'm in one of those--what did (y/n) call it? Horror movies? Whatever the hell that was.


End file.
